


Distractions

by blathering_kat, Etharei, fiarra



Category: Avengers (Comics), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 18:05:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blathering_kat/pseuds/blathering_kat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etharei/pseuds/Etharei, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiarra/pseuds/fiarra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve should really think before he plays with Tony's toys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImmaCapsicle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmaCapsicle/gifts).



> Written for kink_bingo round 4, wildcard square. This one's a gift for @coulditbejeng

Steve is just thinking about heading over to the conference room for the day’s tactical meeting when he gets a call from Pepper. When he picks up, she sounds more than a bit harassed and talks right over him as he tries to say hello.

“Steve, I need you to do me a favor. Tony has a board meeting today and I need someone to run down to the lab and make sure he actually gets there this time.” She is cut off by the sound of something breaking in the background, so Steve quickly agrees to check and hangs up. With a quick glance at the clock, he pages the elevator and takes the long trip down to the lab.

The elevator doors slide open and Steve keys himself into the lab. Save for the ambient hum of machinery everything is quiet, but Steve knows that sometimes Tony naps down here, so he makes sure to check the cot that Tony keeps pushed against one of the walls of the lab. As he walks past the cluttered desk, a precariously balanced stack of papers flutters to the floor. Now absolutely sure that Tony is not avoiding his meeting by hiding out in the lab, Steve starts to gather up the fallen papers. _Not that it matters much given the state of this room..._

It’s not until he’s staring at the chaos on Tony’s desk, looking for a safe place to put the stack, that he sees them. At first Steve doesn’t quite believe what he’s seeing, but after a few moments, he is forced to conclude that Tony has a set of three buttplugs sitting on his desk. All three of them are shiny, bullet-shaped chrome, ending in a flared base that is tinged a deep red. Steve picks up the smallest one curiously, running his fingers along the smooth surface. They look metallic, but when he squeezes the side, there is a strange amount of give to it.

As the plug warms in his hands, Steve glances around the empty lab, at the dormant elevator, and thinks about the past couple weeks. He loves sinking into Tony, feeling his warmth around his cock, and he believes Tony when he says he loves what they’ve been doing. Tony’s ridiculously responsive. He loves sex and he’s never shy about expressing that. It’s just...Steve’s not particularly experienced with gay sex - or, really, sex at all - and he wants to know how it feels to be on the other side. He’s experimented a little, but he doesn’t really understand how the feelings he gets from a finger or two equate to the responses he sees in Tony. But fingers, even his, are smaller than what he’s holding in his hand. After another look at the clock, Steve makes a decision.

Grabbing one of the many bottles of lube within reach (Tony likes to be prepared), Steve settles himself on the cot, leaving the smallest plug next to him. He slides his pants and boxers down past his knees and coats his fingers carefully with some of the lube. The first push of fingers is accompanied by a gentle stretch and ache that Steve lets himself relax into. Ever mindful of his meeting, Steve shifts his fingers in and out a couple times and then reaches for the plug again, swiping the extra lube from his fingers on it. Its widest part is slightly thicker than two of his fingers, narrowing down near the base. It’s a bit of a stretch at first, but once he gets past the widest part, his hole closes around the base, the flared bottom keeping it snugly settled inside.

He imagines Tony crafting the device, sitting for hours in that chair right there, dedicating care and attention to this the way he does with all his creations. Tony makes the most beautiful things - a poet's soul, his ma would say - and this is no different. It sends fire through him, the thought that this fullness inside him has had Tony's hands all over it.

With a tiny shudder, Steve moves to pull his boxers back on and freezes halfway through the motion as it shifts the plug inside him, sending a fresh pulse of arousal through his body. A few deep breaths later, Steve manages to pull his pants back on and starts on a slow circuit around the lab, getting used to the feeling of the plug moving with him. The third time around the room, he stops to look at himself in a mirror, noting the unnatural flush on his cheeks and takes a moment to hope that Fury and Hill don’t notice. With a final glance around the empty lab, Steve leaves for his meeting.

\-----

It’s not that Tony doesn’t understand the point of board meetings. Intellectually, he knows that a company as large as SI has to have a board. What he doesn’t understand, despite endless explanations (lectures) from Pepper on the topic, is why he has to be here while they discuss yet another iteration of the video/satellite/mp3/revolutionary green technology that will save the company from certain economic doom should the tide of public opinion turn against the Avengers. Mostly he’s here because Pepper threatened to go on vacation if he missed another Very Important Meeting.

Tony is really fucking bored.

By hour three, he’s given up on trying to look like he’s paying attention and is instead scanning his favorite Avengers fansites, bidding on a collection of authentic Captain America merchandise dating back to his first press tour during the war (it’s totally not creepy if he’s doing it to preserve an important part of American history) and forwarding his most entertaining spam messages to Nick Fury’s private email address. (He’d tried sending them to Reed once, but had gotten a disturbingly serious essay about the technology of various penis extension techniques in return. Naturally, his mind had applied Reed’s superpower to the subject, then shied away in abject horror. Never again.)

He’s in the middle of a fan post detailing the author’s deep appreciation for Steve’s tendency to ride Iron Man into battle when a quiet alarm goes off in the back of his head. He traces the signal back to his lab and to the box of toys he’d made in a fit of boredom (and horny sleep deprivation) the last time Steve went off on a solo mission for Fury. He’d never actually used the plugs, but he had designed them to connect with Extremis when activated by body heat. Tapping into the security cameras in the basement, Tony watches Steve walk out of his lab with a hitch in his step that matches the changing pressure he can feel on the sensitive surface of the plug.

He follows Steve using convenient traffic cameras and SHIELD’s only slightly illegal satellite surveillance system as he’s picked up by a flying car and taken to the helicarrier. A quick scan of Steve’s schedule nearly makes Tony start giggling in the middle of his Very Important Board Meeting; the convenient thing about Extremis - beyond being able to win an awesome collection of Cap memorabilia while ‘working’ - is that some portion of his brain is recording the Very Important Conversations going on around him, leaving Tony free to focus on making Steve’s weekly strategy meeting with Fury and Maria Hill as entertaining as possible.

With a gentle nudge, he activates one of the secondary features of the plug and leans back in his chair. This should be fun.

\-------

At first Steve doesn't notice it. He just puts the hum of pleasure down to the toy getting nudged into a different position, maybe, or a natural progression after it's been there so long. The first few steps outside of Tony’s lab had made him feel incredibly self-conscious, but the flush of embarrassment and niggling sense of discomfort at walking around with something there had pretty much disappeared by the time the elevator reached the ground floor as his muscles adjusted to the stretching sensation.

He and Tony haven’t really gone this far, yet. There have been fingers, Tony gently stretching him during a leisurely blowjob the last time they’d both been in the same place long enough to find a bed. And Steve had tried himself during the last long mission he’d taken for Nick. It hadn’t been the same, of course, a lonely hotel room felt very far away from Tony’s ridiculously comfortable bed. But this was something very different. The continuous stretch and the feel of the plug moving around slightly as he walked down the street sent him into a daze of pleasure. When he sat down in the back of the flying car, the sudden pressure sent a frisson of lust through his brain and forced him to cover his lap with his shield case. He probably would have been fine, though, would have survived the meeting with Nick and Maria Hill with no problem - if the plug in his ass had been constructed by anyone other than Tony Stark.

As soon as he sits down in the conference room and flips open the briefing folder, the sensation in his ass changes. What had been a gentle, steady pressure suddenly shifts into a quiet vibration. It takes every ounce of control he has left to keep Steve in his chair - looking like a particularly embarrassed tomato is unavoidable. Luckily, Nick Fury in briefing mode could yell through a tornado. Unfortunately, Maria Hill is too observant to miss Steve’s sudden regression into a horny teenager. She glares at him in a manner oddly reminiscent of his primary school teacher, like she can read his mind and doesn’t particularly like what she sees. He hunches down in his seat, careful not to shift his bottom half too much, and gives his full attention to the briefing materials in his hands. Latveria. Doom. Exploding Doombots. As a rule, these words have a similar effect on Steve’s libido as picturing Bucky’s grandparents naked. Not today. Today, he’s just thankful for the conference room table and the incredibly convenient way it hides his erection from the rest of the table.

\-----

Hacking into the helicarrier’s cameras is slightly more challenging than breaking into military satellites - and he’ll need to remind Fury to stop fucking around with his tech, thanks - but once he breaks through, Tony has an excellent view of the conference room table and Steve, staring intently at the folder in his hands. If Tony didn’t know Fury and his obsessions as well as he does, he might have assumed there was interesting information in that folder. Instead, he focuses on the tiny shifts Steve makes every few seconds, like he’s struggling not to react to something. The grin that stretches across Tony’s face at that moment actually manages to quiet the squabbling board members for almost 30 seconds.

Tony ignores the startled silence, and with a thought, he increases the vibration and adds a randomized pattern. He studies the image intently as the board picks up their argument, anticipating the result of the change. When that fails to bring out any noticeable reaction, he activates one of the secondary features and the plug begins to expand and contract, gently massaging the surrounding muscles.

Tony slouches into his chair and crosses his legs under the table.His day has suddenly become much more interesting

\-----

It's probably a good thing Fury is distracted - the warmth goes from a quiet glow to something distinctly _active_ , sending frissons of heat through Steve's body. He has a moment of worry that the toy has activated on its own accord. But the vibrations make it hard to be too concerned, and it’s not like Tony to build something that he can’t control.

Which means -

Tony.

Steve hasn't felt this self-conscious since his first appearance in front of an audience. He's convinced that any moment now, Fury and Hill will notice the flush on his face, the small twitches of his body. Every time he shifts, he can feel the vibrations adjusting and changing and as a result, there is no way to ease the steadily mounting ache.

\-----

Tony has to stop himself from grinning when he notices the way Steve starts to shift in his seat. If he looks like he's enjoying this meeting, it's possible that Pepper might make him come to more of them, and then his brain’d rot and some crazy alien riding a robotic dragon would probably destroy the world. He plasters his best bland 'yes, it IS very interesting how you integrated the web browser and the streaming video app, do go on and tell me all about it in excruciating detail' expression on his face and activates the subroutine that controls the surface temperature of the plug.

He can see Fury and Hill arguing vehemently over something in the background of his video feed, both completely ignoring the way Steve's face suddenly reddens as the plug gets warmer in waves that match the gentle expansion and relaxation of the plug against his inner walls.

Tony shifts in his chair, suddenly grateful for his time-honored and proven habit of getting off before board meetings. Generally he does it to relax and to avoid eviscerating his delicate board members the first few times they suggest that funding the Avengers is an 'unfortunate' business plan and that 'Howard Stark would certainly disapprove' of this allocation of resources. Pepper hates cleaning up those particular messes and tends to take it out on him with increasingly expensive shoe purchases. (He does approve of what they do for her legs. So does Happy.)

Tony's attention is pulled away from the helicarrier when one of the junior members of the board - Dawkins or Dawlish, something like that - actually asks for his opinion on the color of the facing. With that, Tony declares the meeting adjourned before the vapid question floodgates can open the rest of the way. Pepper deserves a new pair of Louboutins.

On his way down to the lab, he activates the last of the options on Steve's plug, turning off the vibration and starting a gentle throbbing that feels like a heartbeat. Combined with the waves of heat and expansion and contraction, the plug becomes the closest approximation to human that Tony could manage in that one night of sleep-deprived loneliness.

\-------

Steve stares down at his notes, wondering if there’s any chance that Tony would take pity on him (because, if he knows Tony, he’s definitely watching) when the vibrations change again. The toy is throbbing - but why is he even surprised, of course Tony wouldn't just stick to vibrations when he can include unexpected surprises. The pulses of heat from the toy makes Steve want to curl his fingers around something solid and his legs part a little under the table before he can help himself.

Steve takes his duty seriously; he used to hate the slackers that thought they could cruise by on the army on attitude and connections - still does, really - and he'd be ashamed to be found distracted from his duty. But he hadn't expected the toy to so thoroughly occupy his attention. Which is his fault - he knows better than to underestimate Tony, to assume anything to do with Tony will turn out the way he expects. Thankfully, Fury seems to be winding down. Steve almost groans in relief when Hill says something about having covered enough for the day - actually, a sound must escape him because two pairs of eyes swivel his way.

He freezes, heart hammering. But the sudden fear doesn't kill the throb of desire between his legs - if anything, the sensations intensify, the illicitness of it feeling like spice in his blood. But Fury just scowls at him and says "Get some sleep, Roberts, you're lookin' peaky."

Steve considers pointing out that it’s not as if he can actually get sick, but is faced with a more pressing dilemma. Clearly, Fury and Hill expect him to leave the room with them. Then his phone rings. He fumbles it open.

"Hey Steve," says Tony. Steve's sudden exhalation sounds a little too loud and relieved to his own ears.

"It's Tony," he tells Fury and Hill, which gets a deeper scowl from Fury and a shake of the head from Hill. "I should take this call."

"Of course. See you tomorrow, Captain," says Hill. She leaves the room with Fury.

“Hi Tony,” Steve turns back to the phone. If his voice is a little deeper than usual, well. “How are you?”

“Seriously?” slips out, and then Tony’s voice goes into the smoothly pleasant tone he uses on persistent journalists and oblivious board members. “I’m doing fine, thank you. Busy day. Very important board meeting, about which I do not recall a single detail. And yourself?”

“Meeting with Captain Fury and Maria Hill,” Steve answers. Is it his - no, it’s definitely not his imagination, the toy is expanding and contracting and vibrating and heating up in a complicated pattern that has Steve rocking back helplessly on the chair, despite all his attempts at self-control. “There is... a, um, _pressing_ matter I need to, uh, take up with you, though. If you have the time.”

“For you, Cap,” says Tony, and the professional voice is suddenly gone, syllables dipping low and carrying weight. “I _always_ have time. Please come down to my lab.”

Back in the lab, Tony absently watches Steve make his way back to the tower, tracking his progress using traffic and ATM cameras. He's distracting himself with the odds and ends scattered on the nearest lab table, idly considering some basic improvements to the structural integrity of the cot in the corner

 

Tony expects Steve to show some hesitation before making his way down to the lab, but if anything, Steve seems to be moving as fast as he can without looking like he's rushing. Which, Tony reflects, is a typical Captain America response to uncharted territory.

And the thought of Captain America coming to _him_ , primed and ready before Tony has even laid a finger on him - well, Tony has never been above giving himself a deserving pat on the back.

"Tony," is all Steve says once the door to the lab seals close behind him.

Tony gives himself a moment to take in all the very visible (and not so visible) indications of Steve’s arousal. Steve’s face is flushed red, his eyes are dark and through his link to the plug, Tony feels it as his heartbeat speeds up with every passing second. Tony inwardly sighs, pushes back the data stream. As useful as it is to have Extremis, he's not going to share Steve with it. Steve - sweet, earnest, stubborn Steve - is meant to be _experienced_ , not disassembled (hah) into variables. And Steve looks _delicious_ , standing a few feet away but staring at Tony like they're already naked together. He's unabashedly hard, and Tony thinks he can feel the heat radiating off him, even from this distance.

A frozen moment. And then, Tony stands and steps towards Steve. Steve jolts into action and meets him halfway.

Steve’s mouth is warm and wet, soft lips parting obediently at the first swipe of Tony’s tongue. A wordless groan escapes Tony’s throat. His hands run up and down Steve’s sides, not quite knowing where to settle, a part of him still not really believing that he can do _this_ to Steve, that he’s _allowed_ ; that steady, stalwart, gorgeous Steve actually _wants_ him.

Tony licks into Steve’s mouth, shuddering as Steve sucks on the tip of his tongue. Steve, he realizes, has gotten fucking _good_ at this. Tony finds his hands gripping Steve by the hips. He thinks about Steve finding the plug, knowing that Tony had made it, and _slipping it inside himself_. Tony's hand slips down Steve's back, following the sweet curve of his spine, halting at his tailbone. Fuck, he can _feel_ it, through the tremble and clench of Steve's muscles.

The floors of the lab are hard and unyielding; contemplating the pile of blankets next to the cot in the back makes him shift his shoulders to relieve a phantom ache. He won't fuck Steve here, not this first time, but he wants to make him come using the plug, in the same room in which it was created.

Steve seems to agree. He moves toward the cot and Tony follows, like he always will. Steve's jeans are inhumanly tight, tight enough for Tony to see a hint of movement as muscles clench around his little metal creation.

Steve pauses and turns back toward him when he reaches the edge of the cot. He shoots Tony a look that's probably supposed to be some combination of a leer and a nod but comes across more hungry and vaguely desperate. Tony palms his erection, thanking years of experience and, well, just way too many years of living that he's past the age where coming in his pants is a real danger. Steve shifts on his feet and lets out a low moan and Tony can't do this anymore, can't just WATCH, needs to touch.

He strips down to his undershirt and boxers and plasters himself against Steve's front. His hands undo the button and release the tension from Steve's straining zipper, then trail up, dragging the too-tight white t-shirt off his back. He lets his fingernails slide against sensitive flesh before he flings the shirt across the room and shoves Steve towards cot. Steve lets him, giving in, letting Tony control all of that restrained strength

Steve lands on the cot and lets out a groan, guttural; Tony envisions the plug pushing deeper into Steve’s ass and has to clench his eyes shut to get past the sudden wave of arousal. Coming now would _not_ be cool.

Extremis is not as easy to ignore with his eyes closed. But the tech seems to be in tune with its _really horny_ biological substrate: the foremost data stream is the still-existent link to the toy, which he’d used to play with Steve from afar earlier.. For a moment, it's almost as if Tony can feel the pressure around the plug through Extremis. He can feel the throbbing pulse of the plug in his own chest as he drops his boxers and settles on the cot, straddling Steve's thighs. He flips on the vibration setting in the plug, forcing it as high as it will go and feels Steve shove his hips into the air - into Tony - as he reacts to the change

Steve is making faint little noises - short gasps and pieces of words. He's staring at Tony like there's nothing else more important, and his hands don't seem to know where to go, sliding along Tony's legs, up his arms, and down the line of his torso.

Tony leans forward and, careful not to touch Steve's cock, grabs Steve's wandering hands by the wrists, forcing them down against the cot at his sides. He holds him there, feeling all of that power under his fingertips and it's like being in the armor for the first time, feeling like he can fly, breathe, fight and nothing can stop him, not even his failing heart. Their legs tangle together as Steve writhes underneath him. Half of Tony's attention is focused on making the vibrations and expansions of the plug respond to the way Steve's body is shifting, the rest is dedicated to controlling his own reactions. He doesn't want to come, not yet. He wants to see Steve lose control. Wants to feel him give in, needs to see him stop being 'Cap' and let himself be Steve. let himself stop thinking about who he should be - the man a world in desperate need of a symbol thinks he should be - and give himself to Tony. He leans down, aligning their bodies until he can feel the heat of Steve's chest against his own, the slight edge in height letting him get close without touching Steve's straining erection. He's looking into Steve's eyes from inches away when he whispers into his ear, "Come for me, Steve. Come for me."

The splash of wet warmth against his chest sends Tony over the top He collapses onto Steve's broad chest, both of them breathing like they've run a marathon or fought a Hulk. Steve's shaking slightly underneath him.

Tony slides down and carefully pulls out the plug, letting it drop to the floor. Tony drags his fingers through the mess on his stomach, then slides two of them into Steve's stretched hole. Steve arches underneath him with a gasp and the cot creaks in a way that suggests that it was really not built for this. In the back of his alarmingly fuzzy mind, Tony makes a note that this should definitely be his next project. His cock twitches against Steve's leg and Tony shoots it a vaguely incredulous look. Steve is already half hard against Tony's chest, his hands carding through Tony's hair as he comes back to himself. Tony props his head on his arm and grins up at Steve.

"Round two should probably come with an actual bed. If I'm remembering correctly - and I should be because this is my building - we've got a couple of those hanging around."

Steve might have superserum enhanced muscles, but even with Extremis, Tony's are pointedly human. It takes them twenty minutes to get up to the bedrooms at the top of the tower, but he manages to keep his fingers occupied the whole way.


End file.
